


Fraternizing with the Enemy

by clowderforce



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Houses, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hate Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Degradation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Revelations Spoilers, Sexual Fantasy, brief Xander/Azura content in the beginning because the author is a bisexual mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowderforce/pseuds/clowderforce
Summary: With a throaty laugh, Ryoma leaned in and placed a hand on Xander's shoulder. “Now, now, don’t worry. I have integrity as a Crown Prince. What happens in here is strictly private, and I won’t tell a soul about your... indiscretion.” He grazed his fingertips across his skin, delighting in the goosebumps they left in their wake. “But I must admit, you would look so pretty on your knees, completely at my mercy. It would be a waste not to make you squirm.”Xander/Ryoma, PWP, shameless bath house hatefucking.





	Fraternizing with the Enemy

After a long day of journeying through Valla, Xander went to the bath house to cleanse himself. 

He stepped slowly into the steaming hot water, savoring the way it seared around his aching feet and calves. He imagined the heat as a holy flame, one that could burn away the sins and impurities of battle that soap and water alone could not remove. He waded in and sank lower, heat prickling through his skin like static. He took a seat, letting the water rise up to his neck.

The sensation was short-lived, and his body adjusted to the temperature quickly. He stretched out his limbs, but found himself having trouble relaxing. There was so much tension stored in his body -- coiled like a spring, Niles had mused earlier, while trying to coax him into one of his infamous back massages -- and there was no shortage of restlessness in his mind, either. This war had taken a heavy toll, both physically and mentally, and he had little time to mourn for those he had lost. He believed in Corrin, but it was still difficult to swallow the idea of an invisible kingdom and ancient dragon spurring the conflict between his nation and that of his sworn enemies. It was even harder to accept his enemies’ help in resolving the matter. What kind of proud Nohrian came groveling to the Hoshidans for help? It was deeply humiliating.

Xander took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing himself to relax. Now was not the time to dwell on such things. This would be his only chance to unwind for a few days, and he wasn’t going to miss that opportunity. A leader was of no use to his people if his head wasn’t clear on the battlefield, and it was his responsibility to rest and rejuvenate himself so that they could rely on him. 

He sighed. He wasn’t quite in the mood for it, but there was one thing that could help him release the pressure.  _ For the good of Nohr,  _ he thought dryly, halfheartedly palming his cock underwater. He closed his eyes and touched himself, trying to conjure up thoughts of arousal.

_ “Good evening, Your Highness,” Azura says demurely, stepping into his tent. The intricate beading of her gauzy red gown sparkles in the candlelight as she approaches him. Her perfume, a combination of bright citrus and cloying spice, lingers in the air. _

_ He looks up from his book to see her coquettish smile, and returns one of his own. “Azura,” he says. “What brings you to my tent tonight?” _

_ She hums and glides her fingertips along his arm. “I thought you could use some company,” she says. She traces up the pulse of his neck, coming to rest at his jaw. “If we’re to defeat Anankos, we’ll need you at your best. Please, will you allow me to comfort you?” _

It wasn’t his best fantasy. His mind, uninvested in the scenario, trailed off. Azura was pretty, but his heart didn’t exactly stir at the thought of her.  _ Oh, well _ , he thought. It wasn’t his heart that needed stirring, he reminded himself. It would do for now.

_ He takes her hand in his own and presses it to his lips. “So it’s a sense of duty that brings you here, then. Is that all?” he teases. “Surely, you must have more pressing matters.” _

_ She giggles, the tiny medallions along her veil clinking together. “Perhaps,” she says, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she begins to dance. “But tonight, I’d like to shirk my duties for a little while. Will you let me?” She shimmies her hips and leans in close, fluttering her eyelashes at him. _

_ He pretends to weigh his options as her body sways, tempting him with her fluid, serpentine motions. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to allow it for one night,” he says, drawing her in for a languid kiss.  _

_ With deliberate, sensual movements, she climbs on top of him and straddles his lap. She presses his head to her chest, scratching her nails slowly along his scalp. Her long, blue hair drapes over his shoulders. The scent of her perfume intoxicates him as she begins to grind her hips downward into his. _

He sighed and stopped. As vivid as it was, this fantasy just wasn’t doing much for him today. His erection stayed at a feeble half-mast, despite the titillating imagery in his head.

Perhaps it was better to simply get it over with. Instead of fantasizing, he concentrated on the simple task of stroking himself. He kept a firm grip and an even pace, trying to relax and think of nothing so he could relieve himself as soon as possible. 

It was difficult to think of nothing, however, and before he knew it, his memories took him back to the fields of Hoshido, where he clashed with Prince Ryoma to take back his wayward sibling. He remembered the sting on his palms when their swords collided, the tang of blood that salted the earth, the adrenaline that jolted through him like lightning. 

He could still picture the sheen of sweat that glistened on Ryoma’s skin, the way his muscles pulsed with every slash of his sword. He could still hear the guttural roar that erupted from his throat, wild and primal and unhinged as he attacked. He was an unstoppable force of passion and destruction, a wildfire that threatened to smite him where he stood. To his surprise, the thought of such raw power sent a shock of arousal through him. 

Xander stopped. This was dangerous territory. He didn’t want to even think about the implications of these thoughts. It was disgusting and shameful -- and yet, that shame seemed to fuel his desire further, coiling deep in the pit of his stomach. His cock began to swell and ache beneath him. 

It would be over soon enough, he reasoned. No one would have to know, and he’d finally know relief from the tension that plagued his body. As revolted with himself as he was, he had to keep going. He had to unwind as best as he could before tomorrow’s battle. He continued indulging himself to visions of Ryoma that filled his head. 

The door to the bath house swung open, letting steam out of the room.

He quickly released his grip. Out of all the inopportune times for his brother’s nosy retainer to interrupt…  “Yes, Niles, I’m absolutely sure I don’t want a back massage,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Get back to your post.”

“I have no such intention.”

That wasn’t Niles. Xander craned his head back, wondering who dared interrupt his private bath.

To his surprise, it was none other than High Prince Ryoma himself. He strode into the room, wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel and an air of confidence. By some miracle, he had managed to tame his unruly mane into a large messy bun above his head. 

Xander swallowed. The timing could not be worse. “My mistake,” he muttered. In a furtive attempt to hide his now very inconvenient and difficult-to-explain erection, he crossed one leg over the other.

Ryoma casually unwrapped his towel and draped it onto a wooden stool next to the bath. He watched Xander look away, a blush blooming across his cheeks, and he grinned. “You Nohrians are so prudish,” he said, wading into the pool across from him.

“I prefer to call it common decency,” Xander said.

Ryoma chuckled to himself. “Call it what you like,” he said, taking a seat. He reclined against the beige stone tiles, letting his fingertips dangle into the water. “It’s too bad you prefer to keep yourself covered, though. You have a lot to be proud of.” He arched an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

Xander’s mouth went dry. “Excuse me?” 

“Your skin is covered in scar tissue,” Ryoma said. “You bear the proof of many hard-earned battles on your body. The mark of a warrior.”

“Oh. I see,” Xander said, shifting uncomfortably.

They shared a few moments of silence. Xander sat rigidly in his spot, his body wound tight. Ryoma, on the other hand, possessed the calm haughtiness of a lion, lounging in the presence of his prey. 

Ryoma stood up and approached him slowly. “I wonder,” he said, his voice a low rumble as he ran his hand along Xander’s shoulder. “Out of all these scars, which ones were my handiwork?”

He shoved Ryoma’s hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he said.

Ryoma smirked and tossed his hands up, backing off. “Interesting,” he said. “I must have misunderstood you, then. Judging by what you’re failing to hide between your legs, I figured you were  _ aching _ to be touched.”

Xander’s heart stopped. So he’d noticed after all. His blood boiled beneath his skin as shame washed over him. His cock, however, betrayed him with a yearning twitch. “I don’t… I… Just leave me alone.” He averted his gaze, his face now flushed a deep red.

“Come now,” Ryoma teased, a flush of his own beginning to bloom over his face. “Is that any way to treat your ally? You would spurn me even after Corrin tried so hard to secure our cooperation?”

“Leave Corrin out of this,” Xander snapped. 

“But this was their idea.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying,” Ryoma said. “Did you know that Corrin believes, even with the pain we’ve inflicted upon each other, that we have the potential to come to an understanding? They asked me to speak with you one-on-one, so that we could get to know each other better.” 

“And this is your idea of getting to know each other better?” Xander said, frowning. “Mocking me in a public bath?”

Ryoma’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s cut the pretenses. Our peace is fragile. I can never forgive what your people have done to mine. I doubt we’ll be able to ever truly reconcile.” He crossed his arms and shifted his weight. “Like it or not, though, we need to cooperate. For Corrin’s sake, if no one else’s.” 

“I’ve already agreed to join forces with you on the battlefield,” Xander said coldly. 

“But will that be enough?” Ryoma asked, drawing close. He slid a hand beneath Xander’s jaw, stroking it gently with his forefinger. His chestnut eyes flickered with mischief. “How are we supposed to fight as one when there’s so much  _ tension _ between us?” 

Xander closed his eyes. He found himself leaning into the touch, despite himself. “Tell me what you’re getting at,” he said.

“Listen, High Prince of Nohr. The very sight of you sets fire to the rage within me, and there is nothing I would like more than to strike you down. Though I’ve sworn to Corrin that I will not kill you, there are other ways to bring you to your knees.” Ryoma traced a finger down Xander’s throat and pressed it against his skin. “I know that your hatred for me burns the same. But if we are going to succeed against Anankos, we need to channel that hatred into something more… productive. Do you understand?”

Xander understood perfectly, but he kept his expression and voice as even as possible. “So you’re suggesting we substitute one carnal desire with another, then?” he asked.

Ryoma nodded. “Exactly. Both your guards and mine are stationed outside this bath house. No one will be coming in or out, and we are completely alone. I’ve made sure of it,” he said.

Xander pointed his chin at him in a meager display of defiance, one that they both knew was paper thin. “And if I refuse?” he said.

“In that case, we forget this ever happened and move on,” Ryoma said with a shrug. “I have a feeling, however, that you’re interested. The way you moaned my name while pleasuring yourself seems to support that reasoning.”

“Oh,  _ gods _ .” A fresh wave of embarrassment rippled through Xander’s core. His face flushed a deeper red than he ever thought possible. “I thought I was quieter than that,” he muttered, as if that would help his case.

With a throaty laugh, Ryoma leaned in and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Now, now, don’t worry. I have integrity as a Crown Prince. What happens in here is strictly private, and I won’t tell a soul about your... indiscretion.” He grazed his fingertips across his skin, delighting in the goosebumps they left in their wake. “But I must admit, you would look so pretty on your knees, completely at my mercy. It would be a waste not to make you squirm.”

The proposition was enticing, even if admitting it felt tantamount to treason. It didn’t help that Ryoma stood casually at full mast in front of him, his thick erection dangling in front of him like a coveted prize beneath a tuft of dark curls. 

Fine, then. Xander could play dirty, too. He swallowed the retort he carried in his throat and instead leaned in, pressing their lips together. “I am Nohr’s future king,” he whispered into Ryoma’s mouth. “ _ I  _ will be the one to make  _ you  _ squirm.” 

Ryoma raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, but quickly recovered. He cupped his hands around Xander’s face and returned the same searing, dominating kiss. He darted an exploring tongue between his lips, melding their mouths together with an aggressive grasp. He then pulled away. “Is that a challenge?” he asked, daring Xander to move with a fiery stare.

“No,” Xander said, refusing to back down. “It’s a promise.” He pushed their mouths together once more, this time biting down sharply on Ryoma’s bottom lip. This earned him a gasp and a sharp hiss, sounds that he relished in. He looked forward to drawing more of them out of him. He wanted nothing more than to haunt Ryoma with pleasure derived from the one he despised. 

His eyes dark with lust, Xander withdrew from their heated embrace, choosing instead to drop down to his knees. He kneeled into the water, licking his lips with anticipation.

Ryoma looked down on him with amusement. “Are you really so eager to lower yourself before me?” he said, lofting an eyebrow. “I always knew someday you would learn your place, that you belong beneath--nngh!”

Xander bit his inner thigh to shut him up. Though Ryoma’s taunts prickled under his skin, they were of little consequence right now. As compromising as his position appeared, Xander knew he was in control, and he wouldn’t hesitate to exert it. He licked a stripe over the bite mark he’d left, then bit down again, savoring the soft groan he earned. He continued leaving marks on him, dotting tiny bruises and indents along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He mouthed over his hip bones, listening intently to the way Ryoma’s breath hitched in his throat as he roamed over his lower body with his lips and tongue. 

He smiled. That was enough teasing. He turned his attention to Ryoma’s cock, full and flushed with a bead of precome balanced precariously on the tip. He took the head, salty and slick, into his mouth, and swirled his tongue around it.

Ryoma responded with a breathy moan, one that went straight to Xander’s groin.

Encouraged by the sound, Xander took the entire length into his mouth. The power he held sent a thrill down his spine. It enticed him to have the crown prince of Hoshido up close, naked and exposed in front of him, vulnerable to his whims. He could kill him at this very second if he wanted to. Even with the haze of lust that clouded his judgement, it would be incredibly easy. Luckily for both of them, they’d promised Corrin that their interactions wouldn’t end in bloodshed. 

Still, this level of control was intoxicating,  _ almost  _ as satisfying as killing him. He took exquisite pleasure in the shaky breaths escaping Ryoma’s lips as he tried -- and gradually failed -- to maintain a dignified stance. Little by little, Ryoma’s composure weakened, his quivering legs a testament to his rapidly approaching climax. Xander picked up his speed, wet and sloppy sounds echoing across the chamber walls as he bobbed back and forth. He ravished Ryoma’s cock with his mouth, bringing him closer and closer to the brink. 

“Enough,” Ryoma said suddenly, his voice dry. He tugged the hair at the nape of Xander’s neck with a shaky grasp. 

Xander pulled back, letting Ryoma’s cock fall from his lips with an obscene pop. “Surrendering already?” he teased, earning him a sharp pull on the back of the head. He winced. 

“Hardly,” Ryoma replied, shoving Xander aside. “Wait here.” 

Xander watched with curiosity as Ryoma waded over to the other side of the bath. He rummaged through a wicker basket at the edge of the tub that contained a melange of communal soaps, bathing oils, and sponges. After a brief search, he dug out a small vial of viscous clear liquid. He held it up to the light, examining it.

_Oh_ , Xander thought.

Satisfied with his find, Ryoma palmed the lube and strode back over to Xander. “Bend over,” he commanded.

“Pushy, aren’t we?” Xander said, but he did as he was told. He stooped back down onto his knees and hunched himself over the bath’s edge, a crown of dripping wet curls dangling in his face. He felt the heavy weight of Ryoma’s hand pushing into his spine, pinning him to the tile. Next, he heard the tiny pop of the cork. A fresh wave of heat washed over him, and his heart leapt into his throat.

“Hold still,” Ryoma said. Holding Xander down with one hand, he slid the fingers of the other down the cleft of his ass, tracing idly around the ring of muscle at his entrance. The cool, slick contact caused a shudder to ripple through Xander’s body. 

Ryoma withdrew his hand. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Xander stared at him incredulously. “You’ve engaged me in life-or-death combat multiple times, and  _ now  _ you’re worried about hurting me?” he said.

Ryoma, on the other hand, was dead serious. “On the battlefield, we are both willing participants who understand and agree to the risk. This situation should be no different.”

Xander paused at his opponent’s sudden display of consideration. Though he would never show it, a small part of him was grateful for it. “Understood,” he said, nodding. “You’ve never held back before. Don’t you dare start now.”

Ryoma hummed in approval and applied a fresh coating of lube to his fingertips. “Very well,” he said, getting back into position. He placed the tip of his forefinger against Xander’s ass, lightly stroking the tight furl of muscle before pressing inside. After a little resistance, he slid down to the first knuckle, then the second, slowly and methodically working him open until he reached the third. 

He was surprisingly gentle, Xander thought, for someone who had tried to kill him on several occasions. His muscles began to relax as Ryoma added a second finger, slipping in and out of him with ease. Too much ease, in fact. He frowned. “I thought I told you not to hold back,” he said. 

As if to punish him, Ryoma took an even more leisurely pace, sliding his fingers in and out of him with no urgency whatsoever. His motions were agonizingly slow, sending tiny sparks of pleasure through him. He even added a third finger, but it just wasn’t enough for him. 

Xander wanted more. He fought back the urge to rock his hips back and fuck himself on Ryoma’s fingers, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left in this situation.  But,  _ gods,  _ he didn’t know how much longer he could take this slow, tantalizing torture. His swollen cock, which had gone long untouched, throbbed beneath him. He groaned in frustration.

“Something wrong, Prince Xander?” Ryoma teased, crooking his fingertips ever so slightly from inside and eliciting a soft gasp. He pinned him down harder and drew close, his hot breath tickling his ear. He continued to lazily slither his fingers in and out of him, savoring the muted squelch it produced. “Come now. You can tell me what you want. Don’t be shy.”

That bastard. He wanted him to beg for it. He swallowed hard, and before he knew it, his lips were moving before his brain could intervene. “Please,” Xander whispered, closing his eyes tight. 

Ryoma rewarded him with another crook of his fingertips, massaging him softly right in the sensitive bundle of nerves where he needed it most. “Please  _ what? _ ” Ryoma said, a cruel smile forming on his lips. He wanted, in no uncertain terms, to hear exactly which humiliating desires his enemy harbored for him.

Xander shuddered, repulsed at his own behavior. To lower himself like this, especially to someone like  _ him _ , was unforgivable, but there was no going back now. “P-please…” he croaked, his voice dripping with desperation that he’d never heard in himself before. 

“Oh, you can do better than that,” Ryoma crooned, withdrawing his fingers entirely. “Use your words.”

Xander grimaced, pressing his forehead into the cool tile below him. He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “Please… I need… I need you to...”

Growing impatient, Ryoma grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what you want,” he growled, “or this ends here.”

Xander whimpered and looked up at him helplessly. Still, he didn’t avert his gaze as he spoke, even if the words pained him. “I need you to fuck me, Prince Ryoma,” he said, his voice hushed. “Please. I beg of you.” He could feel the bile rising in his throat at his sordid confession, but his body longed for contact in a way he’d never felt before. He had to see this through.

Satisfied with his answer, Ryoma released his grip and let him fall back down to the edge of the tub. “That’s what I thought, Nohrian scum,” he said, reaching back over for the bottle of lube. He slathered it unceremoniously on his dick, lined himself up, and began pushing in. 

After having been thoroughly prepared for penetration by Ryoma’s fingers, Xander took in the thick, blunt head of his cock fairly easily. He was still surprised, though, by how wide it stretched him open -- almost too wide -- as it slipped further inside. He let out a relieved sigh as Ryoma finally bottomed out, giving him that satisfying fullness that he hadn’t felt in gods knew how long. By the low, primal growl that Ryoma released, he could tell that he wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

“Are you ready?” Ryoma murmured into his ear.

Xander nodded.

With no further preamble, Ryoma gripped his hips tightly, pulled back, and surged forward, thrusting all the way to the hilt. 

Xander cried out, his voice laced with pleasure and pain alike as his eyes squeezed shut. 

Ryoma drew back and thrust into him again -- once, twice, three times more, each time with greater force than the last. He greedily devoured the moans that spilled from his opponent’s lips, took in the way he quivered below him as he looked upon his conquest. It was his right as the Crown Prince of Hoshido to take what was his, after all, and it was all too easy to claim his victory when his enemy prostrated himself beneath him like this.

At this point, all traces of pride had melted away, and Xander was more than willing to surrender to him. He released a choked sob as Ryoma built up to an erratic rhythm, each push of his hips causing stars to burst behind his eyes. He bucked his hips back and forth, chasing the sweet friction that struck him again and again. The slapping of skin on skin echoed crudely across the chamber walls as he submitted to Ryoma’s will, letting him claim his body as his own.

Ryoma built up to a feverish pace, strained vocalizations of his own mingling with Xander’s as he pushed them both towards the peak. 

Xander cried out as an orgasm ripped through him, splattering his chest and stomach with sticky white come. His body trembled as Ryoma kept going, his nerves like a livewire as he continued to fuck him raw. He began to feel lightheaded, and he swallowed air in giant gulps as he tried not to collapse from the overstimulation.

Finally, a strangled noise crept up from the back of Ryoma’s throat and he tensed up, his limbs shaking as he came inside him. Silently, he withdrew his spent cock and stood up, stopping to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Xander crumpled to the floor in exhaustion, taking in great, heaving breaths. He lied there panting, body completely spent, stunned at what had just transpired. But more than anything else, he felt a stillness in his head, one that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Even if for a brief moment, the buzzing din of anxiety no longer poisoned his thoughts. Instead, he felt nothing: quiet, calming nothing, a buffer from the world’s harsh realities that awaited him. He lied still, save for his heavy breathing, to take reprieve in this temporary shelter.

His reverie was cut short, however, by the soft whump of a towel hitting his shoulders. 

“Clean yourself up and go to bed,” Ryoma said, stepping out of the bath and wrapping his own towel back around his waist. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I will tolerate nothing less than your best.” He began to make his way towards the door.

“Prince Ryoma, wait,” Xander said.

Ryoma paused and sighed, one hand on the door. “What is it now?” he asked.

“... Thank you,” he said.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. “Get over yourself. I did this for Corrin’s sake, not yours,” he said. “I couldn’t risk having someone so high-strung on the battlefield alongside us. Your condition was a liability, so I stepped in to diminish it. That is all.”

Xander smiled. “Right. Of course. Goodnight, Prince Ryoma.” 

“Hmph.” Ryoma left the bath house, a slight tinge of pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

After a few more moments of rest, Xander cleaned himself up, got dressed, and headed outside. 

Though he intended to head straight to his tent, he encountered his brother’s retainer sauntering about with a knowing smirk on his face. “Good evening, Niles,” he said, giving him a curt nod and pointedly walking past him.

Niles gave a low whistle, looking him up and down. “Looking good, milord,” he said, shooting him a thumbs up. “It appears you are no longer in need of my services. Good for you.”

“Ugh.” Normally, Xander would discipline him with extra chores for such a careless remark, but his current state found him more merciful than usual. “Get back to your post, Niles,” he muttered, waving him off.  He tried to ignore the heat that rushed to his face, and prayed that no one else on the campgrounds was this observant as he made his way back to his quarters. Upon reaching his tent, he crawled straight into bed, his weary body overcome with welcome exhaustion. 

Tonight’s events weren’t exactly what he had in mind to relax himself before tomorrow’s battle, but they had certainly done the job. For the first time in ages, the weight of his responsibilities felt lighter on his shoulders, even if only temporarily. Though he knew he would struggle later with the gravity of enjoying carnal relations with his sworn enemy, he was simply too tired to grapple with it now. With no further delay, he closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful slumber.

 

**Author's Note:**

> About a year ago, I realized that despite Xander/Ryoma’s popularity, there was a startling lack of hatefucking fic for this ship, so I set out to fix that. Unfortunately, it turns out that having a full time job and pursuing a master’s degree at the same time left me with little capacity for creative writing, so it took me forever to get this thing out. There were a few several-month spans where I wouldn’t even get the chance to look at this fic, so please forgive me if there are some weird tonal inconsistencies throughout. Overall, though, I’m pretty proud of it. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Twitter: clowderforce  
> Tumblr: duckromancy


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